A Thousand Miles From Nowhere
by Stratocruiser
Summary: Elliot goes on the road to rescue Olivia only to discover someone else has already saved her. Eo XFiles X over
1. Chapter 1

**A Thousand Miles From Nowhere**

**Rated T**

**Disclaimer: characters not mine. Come back later.**

The steering wheel was wet and slick under his palm. For hundreds of miles, all Elliot had to look at was dust and the occasional sagebrush that dotted the barren landscape. He was hot and dirty - very dirty - but figured he didn't have to make a proper entrance.

They had her. Now he was coming to get her.

New York was a thousand miles ago. He could hardly remember the flight to Amarillo. Houston was a daze, LaGuardia a logjam and the cattle class on Continental a bore. Thinking about having her there on the flight back kept Elliot alive. Looking out at the ribbons of road he prayed for her as the radio faded in and out and the sun went down.

Tucumcari loomed out of the night. Its garish lights meant food and a bed. Elliot wanted to drive all night but his body was sending signs it was time to stop. No one looked at him in McDonalds; the desk clerk at the Blue Swallow paid little attention to his dusty clothes. Even though the room was barren it was somehow soothing. Just sitting in the air conditioning and watching TV seemed like something so normal in a week that was nothing but.

It took almost an entire hotel bar of Ivory soap until Elliot felt clean. Then, padding from the bathroom to the bed, he fished a curled picture from his small bag. She smiled out of the past, holding a coffee. Olivia's tanned skin and smile were all he needed to fall asleep.

"I'm going to find you. I promise," he said, touching the picture gently, then clicking out the light.

XXXXXXXXXXX


	2. The Kingdom of Jones

There are some things men aren't supposed to do.

One of them is cry.

Elliot Stabler never saw his father cry. Over the years the urge to break down would grip Elliot and he learned to channel it into anger, same as his father. It happened with Kathy and it happened when he thought of his dad bearing down from the heavens.

He thought it was all under control about Olivia. Seeing her leaving nagged him, made him angry. And this anger drove him into Dani's arms again and again until he felt emotionless and empty. She was a vessel. Elliot filled Dani up and threw her away.

It happened when he decided to take a walk to blow off steam. The autumn sun was bright and cool, and the leaves crunched underfoot. Everyone around the office had been prudently silent about her absence. Munch knew about the Dani affair and acted as if Elliot had betrayed the entire office. The walls were closing in.

He was drinking the last dregs of his coffee when a glare from a building's tall glass windows filled his eyes. Olivia was gone. It wasn't fair.

And he loved her.

Elliot just beat the tears back to the car. He collapsed against the steering wheel, crying like his heart would break. It just wasn't fair. The whole thing was like punishment for all the times he hurt her. Her number was still in his cell phone, right at the top of the list. Olivia's picture was still on his desk, smiling at a precinct function. They were both smiling as Munch upended a martini in the background. She stood stiffly upright with just the start of a smile curling at the corners of her mouth. Elliot was holding a beer and smiling numbly. Hell, it wasn't the best picture but it was something to dream about when the office got too loud or the paperwork got tedious.

His tears fell for almost an hour. Goddammit, why did he love her? Even after all these years of convincing himself it would be a doomed relationship, that the stakes were too high...

The thought of her auburn hair and brown eyes twisted his stomach. All those nights with Dani and it was Olivia he really wanted. It wasn't Dani calling out his name or carving bloody lines down his back. The sex was brutal and angry. Thoughts of Olivia sent him into that rage, a sexual rage. Then there was the guilt afterward. That was the worst part. He really wanted to feel Olivia's skin next to his, to taste her and uncoil whatever this was that crippled him the moment she walked away. It wouldn't be brutal. It would be something incredibly right.

_You'll never have to be alone, he wanted to say. I can right everything that's gone wrong in your life just by loving you._

Elliot slammed his hands against the steering wheel in frustration.

Two days after he cried in the car, the phone call came. It wasn't anything but a few clicks and a buzz of static but he knew it was her. It bounced off a relay tower in New Mexico. She was on the move, and wasn't New Mexico closer than Oregon?

Later that day, another call came. There was no caller ID, no nothing. It was a rough, raspy voice that sounded vaguely familiar.

"We have her. She's hurt but she's safe," it crackled and then fell dead. Elliot sat silently staring at the phone, trying to place the voice and wondering just what had happened. It traced to a pay phone in the town of Ten Pins, south of Tucumcari.

XXXXXX

That night at the little hotel, Elliot woke out of bed with a start. That voice on the phone...could it be? There are no such things as ghosts, but the voice belonged to a man he'd long given up for dead.

The thought bounced around his mind during the long, dry drive that next day. It was a Tuesday and a wicked wind was kicking up dust devils and tumbleweeds on the deserted road. He felt like the only living thing in a shallow coral-colored sea.

Ten Pins had a gas station with a small cafe attached to it. Elliot inspected the payphone with a mixture of awe and unease before heading into the cafe. His sterile white rent-a-Taurus was the only sedan in a parking lot full of trucks. No one in the cafe turned to look when he entered. Instead, a gruff-looking old man directed him to a small table in the back. A harried waitress filled his water glass and disappeared into the dusty gloom of the kitchen.

A long bar filled one side of the cramped space. The rest was filled with wobbly tables propped up on sugar packets and matchbooks.

"Sugar, what can I get you? You look parched," said the sticky-haired waitress.

"Just a Coke and a barbeque and onion rings," Elliot smiled, suddenly feeling ravenous. He sat watching the crowd until the plate of food arrived. The waitress sat down at the other chair, looking him over.

"You're not from these parts, are yuh?"

"No. New York," he said around a mouth of sandwich.

"Never been there. I went to Nashville once, to see the Opry. That was nice," she said, still studying his features.

"I've never been to Nashville. I liked Memphis," Elliot said, in his most charming voice. Olivia would have been able to see right through him. "You haven't seen her, have you?" he asked, pulling Olivia's picture out of his pocket.

The waitress (her nametag said Anita) studied the picture carefully and looked around. "Nope, can't say that I have. I got customers, though," she said, running back to the kitchen.

Elliot's heart sank. Someone kicked the jukebox and it blasted Leon Russell out its muted speakers.

_John, why the hell did you call me?_

He paid up quickly and ran to the car, feeling the tears about to start. Just as he turned the ignition, there was a knock on the window. "Baby, I wasn't telling you the truth back there," Anita yelled. She ran around to the passenger side and jumped in.

"A few days ago this real sorry looking man and woman came in and pulled me aside. They needed some jugs of water for a lady they found that was real sick. And it had to be a secret, because someone was after them."

Elliot stared at the steering wheel.

"So I filled some milk jugs from the tap and took them around to their truck," Anita continued. "And that girl you're looking for was spread across the backseat, looking terrible, all bloody. The other woman was so happy to get the water she gave me fifty bucks! For tap water!"

"Anyways, the man told me a guy might come in looking for that girl. He said they were going to take her to get medical help."

"Was the guy kind of tough-looking, buzz cut, really blue eyes? Did the lady have long, dark hair?" Elliot asked, feeling strange.

"Yep, that's them. They were kind of strange, you know, mumbly, but real nice. Look, I've got to get back. They headed south on 240," Anita said, getting out of the car. "They didn't want you to worry."

Elliot smiled at Anita and motioned her over. He handed her a fifty dollar bill through the window and drove off quickly, leaving the waitress in the dust, staring at the money.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

There were no hospitals for the next fifty miles. The landscape was bleak, full of circling buzzards and parched white skeletons. Once, he passed a burned-out SUV surrounded by melted globs of metal and faded police tape hanging limp in the heat. It was as barren as the world gets.

He stopped to pee. In the distance there was some kind of settlement, ringed with tattered billboards. Soon it would be too dark to drive in the alien landscape. Feeling completely alone, Elliot stared at the blue sky and mouthed a prayer, a plea...

_John Doggett, you bastard, if you've come back to save her, why is it up to me to finish the job?_

Prayers over. He climbed in the car and pointed it at the lights in the distance, not even hoping to find a hospital. At this point, just a hotel room and a pot of coffee would do. Anything would be better than this limbo of driving across the desert.

Five miles later, the lights loomed closer. **_Jones_**, the sign said. Population 400. Further beyond it, in a yard fronting a tired-looking trailer, another read **_Welcome To The Kingdom Of Jones_**. An old man sat on the trailer's porch, staring into space. A goat was ripping out the stuffing of the couch he was sitting on. If the radio started playing the "Twilight Zone" theme, it wouldn't have been a surprise to Elliot.

The only hotel in the kingdom was a stucco affair with a beat-up neon sign. Half of the lobby was living room, the other half office. The air conditioning was shocking...the room had to be sixty degrees. Elliot rang the bell and waited for a long time. He was just eyeing some tacky rodeo buckles on the wall when an old woman in a loud Hawaiian print muu-muu wandered out.

"I need a room. Big bed if you've got it," Elliot smiled. The woman remained pokerfaced. "I have cash, if that's all you take."

There was a long silence, but the woman eventually grabbed a key off a hook and thrust it towards him. "That's twenty five dollars for the room," she grumbled. He filled out a little card with his vehicle information, gave the woman his money and trundled off through a weedy courtyard. The room was dim but adequate. Puffs of dust flew up when Elliot sat on the edge of the sagging bed.

The map was virtually blank west of Jones on 240, save for an Indian reservation. There was a thought that he could have gone the wrong way, that maybe they veered off onto the interstate...

Letting the police know was out of the question. Olivia could be a fugitive and John and Monica had slipped out of the regular world and gone undercover. No telling where they found Olivia, or how they found her. But he was glad they had. Monica would never let anything happen to her sister.

_"They are the people of the shadows," Munch said once to Elliot and Olivia. "They exist only in the half-light."_

Elliot watched three hours of television and turned out the light. Tomorrow was make or break and the sleep he'd have in the Kingdom of Jones would be fitful.


	3. Bluebird

Olivia found out about her sister a year ago, when an elderly relative let the truth slip out. A mysterious year in Texas as a child had never given Olivia a second's thought. She loved her grandparents and the year was pure heaven. They had a pool, a big backyard and a pink bicycle she rode around the cul-de-sac. They never called it a "dead end". A year of climbing the mimosa trees in the front yard came to an end when her mother re-emerged and carted Olivia back to New York on a Grayhound bus.

Monica was the product of a dalliance with a fellow professor. He was part Native American and studied the occult in his spare time. He died young in a plane crash right on Rockaway Boulevard in Queens. Monica was adopted at birth by a Mexican family and grew up there. She always knew something wasn't right. Sometimes she'd feel pains like a stinging slap across the face.

They were born under different signs but they shared many traits. Both wanted to serve and protect. Both struggled with a dark past, but due to her sunnier upbringing, Monica was slightly more upbeat than Olivia.

Munch was instrumental in getting the information to Olivia. He had ties to two of Monica's co-workers. One day he mysteriously turned up with a box of Monica's belongings...an old teddy bear, a photo album, a diary and a battered FBI badge. The edges were curled and burned and the laminate was scratched with sand. Munch wouldn't say where it all came from. Elliot didn't see much of Olivia that week, but he knew she slept with that teddy bear. There were many unfair things in his life, but thinking about Olivia and her sister broke his heart. He could only imagine how she felt.

Monica's partner was John Doggett. Elliot and John had briefly been partnered when they were just beat cops. They got along okay and their wives hit it off well. Elliot was a rookie and John could be a by-the-book pain in the ass. Then his son Luke died and the world fell apart. Elliot went to the funeral. He shook John's hand numbly but couldn't think of anything to say. John then joined the FBI, got divorced and moved to DC. When he got involved in some shadowy behind the scenes department, Monica came in and then they all just disappeared. They were all supposed to be dead, but as Stephen King said and Elliot was finding out, no true love ever dies.

Saddest part of it was an encounter they all had in upstate right before John and Monica went away with the breeze. It was in an old IGA. Elliot was sick, so he just jawed with John in parking lot as Monica and Olivia connected in the store. "Jee-zus, they could be twins," John said, watching the two of them walking through the doors. Elliot didn't think they looked alike, but the demeanor was there, the hand movements, the cackling laugh. Monica seemed more mischevious than Olivia, and a real heartbreaker. She also looked older, but John had mentioned it had been a rough year for the two of them.

The real shame was that it was four years later when Olivia found out about their ties. The relative blurted it out, then a DNA test confirmed it so that Olivia could be next of kin.

At that point it seemed she needed a sister more than she needed Elliot Stabler.

XXXXXXXXXX

Elliot woke up at 4am and walked out into the cool desert air. The stars were very bright and the purple sky seemed to stretch out endlessly.

"Where are you?" he asked, looking at the moon. A coyote answered from somewhere out in the night. He thought of his children, safe in New York with Kathy. "I'm losing here, Olivia. You've got to give me some kind of sign that you're okay. I don't know what the hell else to do."

The anger crept in slowly, like a muffled scream from the back of his brain. He went back into the hotel room and paced for about ten minutes, trying to put together some sort of game plan. What next? If Olivia doesn't turn up, or she does turn up and need serious medical care, or John and Monica take her back to wherever they hide and he loses all contact?

Elliot thought of Olivia back when they first met. There was an inherant sweetness about her that had eroded through the years. She became more like him all the time. He remembered her wobbling around on heels at the precinct Christmas party last year. Some of that sadness made her more appealing to Elliot. They didn't dance or exchange gifts. Instead, he watched her all night with growing horror. Oh, fuck, he thought. We weren't supposed to fall in love. This was never in the cards.

The walls of the hotel room seemed to close in. Elliot felt sick to his stomach just staring at the violently green carpet and waterstained sink. First he methodially broke a chair. Then he ripped the shower curtain off the rod. Seeing the check-in woman's impassive face, he shoved all the towels into the toilet and knocked over the bureau. It took some rummaging, but at the bottom of his suitase, Elliot found a Magic Marker and wrote "Fuck This Motel" in huge letters on all four walls.

Surveying the damage, he felt dizzy. Olivia would ream him out for this, just another example of his temper getting out of control. But it was fear and helplessness that sparked it this time. The thought of her getting mad was somehow comforting. Like the one time where she was calling him out on something and they both ended up laughing. Elliot had offered her a donut, thoughfully squeezing out the raspberry filling that she didn't like. Some of it squirted on her and Olivia just unloaded. Then she laughed.

The tears came freely. Elliot sat on the trashed bed and cried for what seemed like hours. Her face was everywhere. Elliot loves Olivia, the biggest mistake of his life. And he was sure deep in his heart that she loved him. Anyone that would put up with his onion breath, bad temper, undemonstrative self must have some feelings.

Say hello to the lovesick man in the trashed $25 room.

He cried again and eventually fell back asleep.

XXXXXX

Elliot decided to leave quickly. Checking to make sure the coast was clear, he ran to the car. He had fudged a little on the information card at check-in, mainly because he couldn't remember the tag number on the Taurus. He also checked in as Oliver Barnson, unable to come up with anything more creative. As the motel faded in the dust, he had to laugh for the first time in days.

In his haste, Elliot didn't notice the small white envelope tucked under the Taurus's windshield wipers. Pulling over at an abandoned gas station, he snagged it and recklessly ripped it open.

**Stabler:**

**Indian reservation hospital**

**J. **

He examined the envelope. How did they know? Did they see him praying at the moon?

_"They are the people of the shadows," Munch said._

"Thank you," Elliot said to no one in particular. He checked the map and headed down the dusty ribbon of highway. Some small weight had been lifted off his heart. The heat of the desert didn't seem so oppressive.

There was no sign announcing the reservation, only the outpost of what looked like a battered trailer court. Elliot was expecting to get questioned when he drove in, but the little community seemed dead and abandoned. A battered basketball court ringed with empty Tokay bottles stood empty. What looked like an elementary school had most of its windows broken in, some with industrial curtains that now fluttered in the hot breeze. The playground was weedy and the monkey bars were rusty and jagged.

The hospital didn't look much different from the school, save for its windows being intact. A battered K car sat in the parking lot, surrounded by other relics of Detroit, their paint faded. The asphalt was cracked and the desert grass poked out of the fissures. It was grim, but Elliot found strength to run toward the long brick building, knowing who was inside.

Practically bursting through the door, Elliot looked frantically for a front desk receptionist. The lobby was painfully bare, just an old floor model black and white TV set with rabbit ears and a couch that looked like Rick James stomped all over it. No one was around. so he

The hall was long and dirty. Water had leaked through the acoustic tiles and many of the lights were out. He didn't really notice. His stomach flopped and churned as he passed room 10.

"Hey."

He kept going.

"HEY!"

The voice seemed to come out of nowhere. It startled him so much he wheeled around, almost tripping. At the end of the hall stood a small woman with very pale skin. She was wearing a stethoscope.

"Who sent you here?" she asked. Elliot searched for a reply but couldn't do anything but look troubled.

"I need to see my partner," he finally said.

"Is that Olivia?"

Elliot just nodded as the woman came closer. There was a painting that Olivia showed him once, of Ophelia from Hamlet floating down a stream, her dress slowly fading into the muck. That same pale face was in front of him now. The woman had the look of someone that was two steps from that watercolored riverbank.

"I need to see Olivia," he said again. But instead of turning around (as he intended), Elliot found himself staring into the woman's eyes, almost mesmerized by the sadness and melancholy behind them.

"They told me you'd come," she said. The walked down the hall slowly. "She's still out. I've been giving her liquids and trying to keep her cool."

"Who are you?" Elliot asked. He was beginning to realize the hospital was completely abandoned.

"I'm Dana. John and Monica said we could trust you. They were good friends of mine until things changed," she frowned, staring up at the sagging tiles. "I know John Munch, too."

Elliot's eyes widened. She was Dana Scully, the fair redhead Munch would sometimes sigh about over beers.

"Before I take you in to see her, you have to understand. I've done the best I've can with her. My resources, as you can see, are very limited. But I understand what it's like to love someone and lose them. Then they come back and you want things to be right. Things change, though. You either love them more or you're angry because you weren't part of the equation for such a long time. You were the one left to clean up the mess," Dana said earnestly.

"I understand," Elliot said quietly, unconciously mimicking the hushed quality of her voice.

They came to the end of the hall. Dana opened the door to room 20 and let him go in first.

Olivia was in the bed. Her face was battered and misshapen. A bandage couldn't conceal the blood that had leaked from her temple. Every exposed inch of her skin was peeling with sunburn. "Oh God," escaped his lips in a shuddering sigh. "Olivia, what did they do to you?"

Elliot almost collapsed and would have hit the floor if it weren't for the steady hands of Dana Scully. She got him into a chair by the bed and put a cold hand on his shoulder. "Let her know you're here. Talk to her."

Dana slipped out of the room and left them alone. It took a long time for Elliot to find his voice.

"Liv?"

She didn't move.

"I'm here. I made it. I guess up until this point I never really believed in miracles, but the fact that I'm here and you're here is one. And I won't let you go again, even if you hate me for everything I've done in the past."

"I prayed for you, and I never pray for anyone anymore."

The soiled white curtains fluttered slowly in the dead wind. Through the window the only sound was a chain banging on a flagpole. It's insistent pinging made the land seem so much more lonely.

"We're surrounded by ghosts here. I wish you could see how blue the sky is. I wish you knew who it was who saved you...saved us."

He leaned over and kissed her lips lightly. Those brown eyes were beneath those swollen lids, and right then Elliot would have given anything to see them. Olivia's hands didn't look burnt, so he grasped one and held it to his face, kissing it. He let it rest on the bed and laid his head beside it, finally falling into a deep sleep for the first time in days. That's how Scully found him an hour later. She didn't have the heart to wake him up.

XXXXX

When Elliot finally did come around, Dana was shaking him gently on the shoulder. "How long have I been out?"

"About four hours," Dana said, checking her watch. "Do you want some coffee? I just made a fresh pot."

He got the vibe Dana wanted someone to talk to. So he followed her down to an office area that seemed cleaner than the rest of the building. "I'm surprised this place has power," he remarked, sitting down in a rickety office chair.

"It's more sophisticated than that. There's a full security system, too. Some friends rigged it up when they passed through," she said, pointing at a tiny camera mounted on the wall. "They're all over the perimeter."

"I won't pretend like I don't know who you are, or who might be here with you. John told us all about you guys one night, but I thought it was urban legend, until we found out about Olivia and Monica," Elliot said, taking a sip.

Dana looked a little lost and seemed to struggle for a moment. "This reservation was abandoned 15 years ago because the Native Americans said the ground went bad. The friends who rigged up all the equipment were using it as a hideout. When they moved on, we moved here. None of us can be in the same place at the same time."

"Where's Mulder? I swear, we all believed Munch made him up."

"He's over the border, trying to get us a new truck. It's the only place you can get something like that with cash no questions asked. When he gets back, we're leaving again."

Elliot knew better than to ask where they were going. "So Monica and John dropping Olivia off - "

"Was a big risk. But I would do anything for Monica and John. I really wanted to see them again. Monica was like a sister to me for the year we worked together, so having Olivia here is a little part of that."

"Dana, if there's anything we can ever do for you guys, say the word."

She shook her head. "The whole thing is something you'd never want to get involved with. I think of Monica and John sometimes, who could have had that pretty suburban house and a couple of kids. They live in a cabin up in God-Knows-Where, under assumed names. Our families believe we're all dead. That's not something I would wish on anyone," Dana said, a bitter smile crossing her face. "Let's check back in on Olivia. Someone who there is hope for."

Olivia was still out, but Elliot kissed her again. It cheered him to hear her strong breaths. Many questions still remained, but she was back. Scully checked Olivia's bandages an sighed a little bit. "Elliot, her head wound was cause by some blunt-force trauma, like a hit by a shovel. Monica was able to get it sterile. You'll need to watch it closely. If she wakes up a different person, that's cause for concern."

Elliot picked up her hand again. There were so many questions that needed to be answered. It would take awhile to learn what caused Olivia's wounds, but when he did, Elliot never looked at her the same way again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**AN: **More to come soon. Thanks for reading.


	4. Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been

Dana gave him a sleeping pill. He didn't ask for it, but she presented it like a diamond. It was the size and color of a robin's egg.

"God, is this what Rip Van Winkle took?" Elliot asked, eyeing the blue pill. They had just finished pushing another bed into Olivia's room. Dana just shrugged at the comment in an offhanded way. She started wiping Olivia down with cool water.

"She was stabbed in the neck once, wasn't she?"

Elliot wheeled around. The pill felt like it had gone down sideways. "Yeah. In a bus station. A few months ago," he said, wincing at the heavy memory.

Dana just nodded and went back to her work. She was a small woman but she had a way of filling a room with her presence. Everything she did seemed so assured. For just a moment Elliot wished he had known the whole group before whatever it was that blew them apart. Munch had a way of talking about it that made them all sound like the Knights of the Round Table. It was funny to think that John Doggett got all tangled up in this, the same guy that bitched Elliot out once for leaving a candy wrapper in the patrol car.

And what about Fox Mulder? Always on the run, maybe dead or maybe not. Elliot wanted to ask Dana, but was unsure if she'd open up. Because for all her assuredness, there was an etheral, delicate air that surrounded her. _There is a willow grows aslant a brook/That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream/There with fantastic garlands did she come..._

Elliot's eyelids began to grow heavy. His mind was wandering. Dana loomed over him and smiled. "See? It's not so bad. Wait here and I'll get you some more water."

She disappeared for what seemed like a long time. The feeling of drowsiness was like drowning and Elliot was struggling to keep his head above water. Olivia's hand was soft and warm in his. She was so beautiful. John was probably sleeping with Monica, so he'd know how it felt. Maybe they were even married. Who marries fugitives? Where do aliens go to register?

_Cancel my subscription to the resurrection/Send my credentials to the house of detention/I got some friends inside..._

The cool water slid down his throat.

_"Goddamn it, I told you not to leave trash in the patrol cars," barked Doggett._

His mind jumped dangerously off course until two voices seemed to float down the hallway. One was Dana's but the other was definitely male, low and scratchy. Two faces appeared. They seemed to be talking but Elliot could just make out some words.

"...stay and take care of her..."

"...come out of it soon...trouble is all about..."

Elliot felt a soft kiss on his cheek. "Take good care of her," Dana whispered. Through groggy eyes he could see her doing the same to Olivia. The male figure loomed in...Fox Mulder!...and shook Elliot's limp hand.

"She's a pretty girl. A very lucky, pretty girl," the male voice said.

Elliot finally closed his eyes and saw the purple desert night inside them. The stars were blinking down so bright, and four people were under that big moon, shifting like sand in the wind.

In his sleep, he cried out "Come back!" but there was no answer, just the sound of emptiness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

There were no dreams that night for Elliot. When he woke up, it was to full consciousness, not the half-groggy morning fog that sleeping pills usually induce. Sunlight was streaming through the blinds, sending slants of light on Olivia, who was still a sleeping beauty.

He woke up and roamed the hospital. Dana was gone. All of her papers and most of the food was gone from her office, save for a box of MRE's and some of the bottled water. He poured some of it onto a wad of paper towels and tried to freshen up. Then he brought the jug back down the hall to Olivia.

She was looking much better. The suntan was peeling less and the head wound had scabbed up quite a bit. Dana had left some extra gauze and painkillers on the bedside table, along with a leather bag that contained what he figured were Olivia's clothes and effects.

Elliot sat on the side of her bed and pulled her into his arms. Slowly and softly, he rubbed her face and back with the cool water, kissing her shoulder at every opportunity. Her hair was clotted with blood, so he blotted away until it faded to a dusty streak. Beyond the copper scent of the blood, she still smelled the way he'd dreamed. That low note of apricots sent a shiver up his spine. When they'd lean in close at the precinct, it had the same effect.

He spent the day be her side, eating the military food and reading from a moldy pile of Reader's Digests. Sometimes he'd sing little bits of songs and recite nursery rhymes just in case Olivia was listening. The wind picked up, blowing puffs of dust and tumbleweeds by the open window. Restlessly, Elliot put down the magazines and squinted out into the desert. The bleakness of the torn blacktop and the forgotten cars set into his bones. So this was Dana's life, and Monica's life and Mulder's life and John's life. The tiny part that had touched Elliot and Olivia would leave a lasting impression, something deeper than footprints and tire tracks scoured away by sand.

He sighed and again sat beside Olivia, brushing his fingers lightly across her cheeks. Some of her hair was greying at the tips. It wasn't really noticeable, just something that stands out if you stare at someone all day. They weren't getting any younger. That was an honest truth and all the love and beauty in the world couldn't change that.

But could they change?

Elliot didn't think he could go back and pretend they were just partners. They'd both been pretending for so long that their only ties came from the badge, the streets, the crime tape and the bloody mess. In the hospital not so many months ago the truth almost popped out. He cared too much. Neither of them meant for it to happen. But he ran, then Olivia ran. When they reunited their bond was shaky. When she left to undercover, Elliot couldn't hide the fact he was heartbroken. They protected each other. The past two months he'd felt like a one-armed man, like part of his soul had been sucked away.

Dani was a mistake. Just a warm body to hold and conquer to prove he could function without Olivia.

He couldn't.

"Hey, wake up, okay?" he said out loud, jumping at the sudden sound of his own voice.

Olivia didn't move. He washed her face again and put a hand on her chest. The slow rise and fall of each breath was soothing. Elliot sat down again and dug back into the stack of magazines, always keeping one eye on his partner.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At 9pm, Elliot was down the hall trying to find something else to read when a scream echoed off the tile. He ran slipping and sliding towards the room, thinking she may have fallen out of bed or something was in there or she was in pain or...

When he charged in, nothing had changed. Olivia's eyes were still closed. There was no one else in there. He stood beside the bed panting, adrenalin rushing, ready to pounce on anyone or anything. A piece of something fell outside and "tinged" on the concrete. Elliot's eyes narrowed as he walked back into the hallway, scanning left and right.

When he went back into the room, Olivia's eyes were open.

"Liv? You awake?" he said franctically, grabbing one of her hands, kissing it over and over. Olivia's eyes shifted from left to right until she spotted Elliot.

"Water," she said softly. He poured a glass and tipped it to her face. She downed most of the glass and gave him a weak, grateful smile. "Where are we?"

"New Mexico," said Elliot. Bending over, he kissed her and felt her arms encircle his shoulders. "I missed you."

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," she said in his ear. Their eyes met and they spent a moment locked in each other's gaze. "I don't remember anything, but I feel like someone was taking care of me. Were you with me the whole time?"

Elliot sighed and sat down, holding her hand. "I've been here for two days. Someone else was taking care of you up until then. I don't have any idea how you got from Oregon to here," he said, staring at their intertwined fingers.

"Did someone take me into custody?" she asked. "Where's Jeff?"

Elliot shrugged. Olivia looked very confused. "This isn't really a hospital, is it?"

"Used to be. It was abandoned some time ago, but it's okay. You got better and that's all that matters," Elliot said.

Olivia was silent for a long time. She stared out the window at the darkness. The sky was a dark purple, lit by the stars and the occasional passing airplane. "Someone had to bring me here," she finally said. Elliot knew she was to stubborn to stop asking.

"Your sister did," he said quietly. Olivia turned to him quickly. "Monica and John dropped you off and Dana Scully patched you up and waited until I got here."

Olivia started to say something. Instead she turned to the wall, covered her battered face with her hands and started to cry.

**To Be Continued**


	5. The Ballad Of John and Monica

_**Four days earlier...**_

The lights from passing cars lit up the hotel room, throwing sparkles off the mirrors. The room smelled faintly of smoke and mildew. It was a tired place down to the mashed-down green carpet and stained bedspread. But it would do for now.

John was the light of her world. They had been beaten down for so long Monica was sure they'd never see the sunshine again. Her face was drawn and wrinkled. Even though Olivia was five years her senior, Monica looked the oldest.

They had been in Alaska for five years. It was pretty and their little cabin was nice, but sometimes she'd wake up and wonder if they'd ever get back to civilization. Monica missed her apartment in DC. She missed being able to pick and chose a restaurant and take a walk in the park during Indian summer.

She missed too many things. This was the first time either of them had left Yellow River in that five years. Mulder and Scully had been all over the map. She didn't exactly hate them, but sometimes there was a niggling thought that things just never turned out as they should have. John's house was probably populated with a young well-to-do couple who made love under the exposed rafters and planned a playroom in the attic. They had been so close to having that and in the short span of two days - wham. Hello Alaska. Hello to totem poles, white outs, general stores and too much money and nowhere to spend it. Even the mail would only come once every few weeks in winter.

What was it Thomas Hardy said?

A low moan came from one of the double beds.

Monica rushed over and laid a hand on her sister's forehead. Olivia was swollen and dazed from the head wound, sometimes calling out for people and other times cursing at Monica, ranting and raving incoherantly. Now Olivia was crying silently and Monica wiped the tears from her bruised cheeks. Flesh and blood. Maybe they wouldn't get along as aquaintances. Olivia was too practical for all this ESP bullshit and Monica was a little suspicious of Elliot Stabler. When they met for a very brief moment that time in New York State, he left her cold. Monica sensed he had too many things bottled up. She saw the wedding band but took away the vibe that his feelings for Olivia would bring everything crashing down on both of them someday.

The door opened and John walked in, dripping from the rain. He hadn't changed much - maybe there were more lines around his eyes and more grey in his hair. "Is she doing okay?" he asked, concerned. Monica wondered what Olivia took away about John, Mr. Intense.

"She's been crying. Were you able to get anything she could stomach?"

"Some soup. I had the lady at the cafe strain the nodles out of some chicken soup," John said, leaning over Olivia. He tentatively brushed a hand across her cheek, catching a few tears in the process. "She really got herself into a mess. Poor thing. Good thing Spender was there when it all went down."

"My sister," Monica said disjointedly. She popped the plastic lid off the cup of broth and stirred it with a plastic spoon. John propped Olivia up and Monica sat down on the bed. "Sweetie, wake up. You need to eat something."

One of her eyes opened. Monica blew on the spoonful and held it to her lips. Olivia leaned forward slightly and sucked the broth down. She then squinted at Monica, who smiled back.

"Mom?" Olivia mumbled.

"Nope," Monica said, holding the spoon up to her mouth again. Olivia drank it down and squinted again. "It's your sister," Monica explained, wiping some of the soup from her mouth.

"Casey?"

"No. Monica. Monica Reyes. Your sisssss-terrrrr," said Monica, holding up the spoon again. John turned a laugh into a snort from over by the TV.

"Mom?"

Monica fed her the entire cup of soup before sitting down to her own dinner. She glanced over at John, who was sprawled on the other bed, watching the news. It was strange having the two people she loved most in the world in the same room.

Olivia mumbled something again. John cocked his head smiled. "I think she wants your cheeseburger," he said.

"Olivia, you had soup. That's all I can give you," Monica called out.

"Um huh," was Olivia's reply. They waited until Olivia dozed off again to talk.

"I cleaned up her cut again. God help us if it got infected," Monica said, laying down beside John.

"We're doing our best. Scully will take care of the fine points when we get there. Olivia's strong. She's just got to fight," John said, pulling Monica close.

Scully. They were friends but in those last, long days before Mulder returned Scully had just become a ghost. Funny, but just as Scully walked out of her life, John began showing up at all hours. "You just sleep," he'd say, flipping on the television. Monica would try, but he'd pace the floor. He was agitated and frustrated. Monica would try to get him to lay down on the couch with no luck. Often, she'd doze off on it as he sat three feet away, watching late night movies. His presence soothed her. The next step in their relationship wasn't far away but everything was too far up in the air for anything to happen.

That was all a long time ago. They scattered like ashes in the wind.

"ELLIOT! ELLIOT!"

Olivia's scream woke Monica and John out of their doze. She was crying again inconsolably, choking on her tears. "John, run out and get some sleeping pills, quick," Monica ordered. His eyes sparkled in the darkness before he disappeared out the door into the damp air.

Monica pulled Olivia into her arms and sang every song she knew. There was an old man in their village who could sing old songs for hours. For some reason, these little tunes seemed to pop into mind as Olivia sobbed.

_You are my sunshine...my only sunshine...you makes me hap-py...when skies are grey..._

"I don't know how to tell him. I don't know," Olivia began to sputter.

"Tell him what?" Monica pressed.

"I don't know, I don't know."

"Listen, he loves you. He's coming for you."

Olivia calmed down slightly. Her eyes began to droop shut. "I have my misgivings about Elliot Stabler. I guess, though, if you like him that much that I can, too," Monica whispered in her ear. "There just aren't enough John Doggetts out there for everyone."

Olivia opened both eyes and looked lucid for a fleeting moment. "You saved me," she said.

"What are sisters for?" smiled Monica. She watched Olivia's eyes close again and waited for John to return.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**The Next Day**

They looked at the crumbling hospital. "I'll take Alaska over this," John muttered, kicking a Pepsi can across the weedy macadam. Monica squinted in the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of Scully. All she could make out were some chairs stacked up in an old waiting room.

That morning Olivia fell into a deep sleep, aided by some of John's leftover Vicodin. John lifted her gently onto the gurney and regarded her thoughtfully. "If I find out that guy ever breaks your heart, I'll come back from the underground and kick his ass," he said, rubbing one of her limp hands.

Monica had Olivia's blue bag and another leather bag that had belonged to Mulder a long time ago. She stacked them on the end of the gurney and stared silently at Olivia's sleeping form.

"I'll get in the car - let you say your goodbyes," John mumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He climbed into the truck and rubbed his temples.

Monica took Olivia's hands and held them tightly. Tears stung her eyes and the back of her throat burned.

"Remember this: You are loved. And I will see you again," said Monica, as her tears pattered on the sheets. "I wrote you a letter, just so you know what happened and why I can't stay."

She leaned down and kissed her sister's cheek. Then, gathering resolve with one last look, Monica got in the truck.

"Go. Just go," she said through tears. John beeped the horn twice and pulled away quickly. Through the dust, Monica watched Olivia get smaller and smaller as they rode away.

"Your sister's in good hands," John said, rubbing the back of Monica's neck.

"I know," was all she felt like saying.

She finally remembered what Thomas Hardy wrote. _Nothing bears out in practice what it promises incipiently. _Monica looked over at John and back at Olivia's retreating form and guessed that was about the truest thing anyone could ever come up with.

Then they disappeared into the bright sunlight.

**XX**

_**More to come...**_


	6. Black Helicopters

_**When I go West you wear a marshal's star,**_

_**Persistent as a curse;**_

_**And when I steal a purse**_

_**A note inside says, "I know who you are."**_

_**Donald Hall**_

She was in and out for the rest of the afternoon. Elliot would smooth the covers and hold her hand. It was too warm inside the building so everything seemed hazy and smeared. Olivia was sweating buckets so almost every hour he'd haul the pan of water to the bed and towel her off.

"The water feels good," she mumbled, wiping her eyes. She was lying in Elliot's arms as he ran the cloth over her forehead and shoulders. The swelling had ebbed on her face. For the first time, he could see how skinny she'd become, and how pale. The old t-shirt she was wearing seemed soaked with sweat. "I'd give anything for a shower," she said, pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes.

"I don't the water's potable here. When we blow this popstand tomorrow I'm hauling out the gold card and we can find somewhere nice to go," Elliot said, trying to wipe around her cut. "I've never seen you with hair this long before."

"I'm going to have it all chopped off when we get back to New York. Long hair's a pain in the ass."

He laid her down gently and settled into the chair. Olivia yawned twice and stared at the waterstained ceiling. "I want pizza and ice cream and a burger and a big steak," she sighed. "All that natural food is great but I missed greasy street food and coffee with biscotti in the morning. Hell, I even missed that purple stuff in the station coffeemaker. Or when Casey makes coffee and it's got an oil slick on top. It looks like the water in Pumpkin Patch Channel."

"Yeah. Did you know Fin has an espresso machine? I went over to pick up some stuff and he had it going full blast."

A low sound filled the room. Elliot strained to hear it. He would have guessed it was the AC kicking on, but that wouldn't ever happen. He cocked his head toward the window and Olivia sat up, wincing. The sound grew louder, and as the volume grew it became unmistakeable. For a second he couldn't move. He thought of Monica's burnt ID tag, Olivia's tears and that deadalive look in Scully's eyes.

"We have to get out of here. They're coming for them," Elliot said, jumpinng up suddenly and throwing everything into the two satchels. "If they don't find them, they'll haul us in for aiding and abetting. Maybe worse."

Olivia swung her legs around the side of the bed. She was swaying slightly. "Hold these," Elliot commanded, shoving the bags in her hands. Then he picked her up gently and ran down the hall. Olivia hid her face in the crook of his neck.

Outside the sound of the approaching choppers was louder, but Elliot couldn't exactly see them. A line of bluffs stood five miles to the west and he guessed they were searching there. Or maybe they weren't searching at all, but still his sixth sense screamed that they were in immediate danger and needed to leave.

With a grunt, he got Olivia into the car, just sort of pouring her into the passenger seat. They were off at a very high rate of speed and Elliot was on the lookout for any sort of shelter they could take, enough to hide the car and them. The helicopters were closer now and Elliot could see their dark, spidery shadows on the brown desert ground.

An abandoned tourist shop sat in front of them like a mirage. He dipped off the road quickly and swung the car into an enclosure, praying they were out of harms way. The sound of small missles screamed overhead, and from their shaky vantage point, Elliot and Olivia were treated to the sight of the old hospital being firebombed.

"They're not after us," Olivia mumbled, although she didn't have to say it. The black helicopters screamed overhead, kicking up the dust and folding the scrubby pines almost to the ground. They waited until the sound went away completely to drive out.

Elliot rolled his window down and sighed. "If this is what they have to deal with - God bless them. I couldn't live this way."

"I know. It makes our lives sound boring. Our professional lives, I mean," Olivia frowned.

"Yeah."

They drove along in silence for awhile, craning to hear the helicopters and on edge in case they did. Behind them smoke rose from the ruins of the hospital. The black pyre smudged the blue desert sky.

"We have a day before the flight back, so if you just want to bunker down somewhere...get some more sleep."

It felt funny just to talk about life instead of work. Their ties outside of work were odd at best. Neither of them was much for small talk. Antisocial's not a word Elliot would have used to describe himself. That's how he'd describe Olivia. They were both sheltered by each other. And when Dani came in after Olivia left, some of that shelter chipped away. She caught him at a weak moment and took advantage of the situation. Olivia was the only person who could control him in those weak moments, and when she couldn't, he placed the blame squarely on her shoulders.

The bus station was a perfect example of all this. Seeing her on the floor bleeding ripped his heart out. It was every nightmare he'd had in the past few years. She caught all the blame when the boy died. Elliot didn't mean it to be this way. But talking with Huang made him realize the power she held over him.

Then she ran. She came back and ran again. So Elliot turned to Dani, who was happy to return his affections and wasn't so complicated and didn't run away. There was just something awfully wrong about the whole thing.

"Tucumcari's not too far away. At least we can get a decent dinner and a clean room there," he said. Olivia was staring listlessly out the window at the sagebrush. "You okay?"

She just shook her head. "Elliot, I think I may have killed someone."

Elliot brought the car to a shuddering halt and tried to keep his panic to a minimum.

"I remember - I was out walking out in the woods . It was the only place I could be by myself and think. I ran into this guy named Jeffrey, his face had been burned in some sort of fire. He was nice, the nicest of all of them. We were just talking about everything and nothing when he just stopped and grabbed my shoulder."

Elliot leaned forward and began to stroke her arm.

"These people were there, dressed in black. They all just seemed bigger than anyone I've ever seen before. Jeffrey told me to run, but I was too - something - to leave him out there alone."

_"Go!" shouted Spender as the tallest of the group lunged forward. Olivia couldn't run. Something was very wrong about these people and the whole situation seemed unnatural._

_"Who are you?" she pressed. One of the other men knocked her to the ground. Spender whipped out a gun and pointed it at Olivia. A scream died in her throat._

_"I'd rather kill her than let you take her," he said. "I saw what you did to Dana, how sick you made her. You used her up and left her to die."_

_One of the men pressed forward toward Spender. In a flash, Olivia was on her feet in a defensive position. The tall man laughed at her. "She doesn't know who we are, but you must certainly do, Jeffrey Spender. And we know who she is," said the man._

_"Leave her sister out of this. Monica could be dead for all we know," Spender hissed. "Didn't you guys kill all of them?"_

_The tall man smiled slightly. Olivia, startled by the mention of Monica, was shock-still as the group surrounded them. She looked at Spender in confusion. It started to rain and all around them the forest came alive with the splattering sounds of water on the giant branches._

_They all looked up, and Olivia saw her fleeting chance to end the situation. One of the men appeared to be unarmed. She ran at him with her head low and knocked him to the ground. The other advanced on Spender. He was being choked. She felt hands clasp around her own neck and a forceful sense of strangulation. The butt of a gun stuck out of her attacker's coat. It felt cool in her hands. It hardly took any effort at all to pull the trigger. Blood splattered on her face._

_The hands loosed from around her neck, then fell off completely. Spender's gun went off several times. Olivia counted five before she heard something that sounded like a frying pan hitting a pillow. For a millisecond she wondered what the noise was, but the blackness set in. From somewhere, Spender shouted her name. The pine needles scratched her cheek._

_"Elliot," she said before losing all sense entirely._

After she told the story they sat quietly, listening to the wind. "You're damn lucky," was the only thing Elliot could say.

"I know," Olivia said, sounding a lot like Scully. "I know."

In one uncontrollable moment, Elliot leaned over and kissed her. It was a deeper kiss than anything they shared back at the hospital. Her lips were so soft against his. Elliot felt his brain start to spiral out of control. His body was filled with a dizzying warmth.Just the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips had his breath coming in short bursts. Olivia clutched his shirt for a moment before pulling away abruptly.

In her eyes he saw something that took his breath away. It was betrayal. Olivia knew he'd been fooling around.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**AN: When will Tuesday get here? **


	7. Watercolors In the Rain

_For so long the dark feelings had haunted her. Even as a child in Mexico she knew something wasn't right. "Blackbirds" she always called them. They'd fly in at inopportune moments and send her into deep depression. But she always knew good. Sometimes she'd see auras around people. John's was green. Scully's was yellow. Monica was sure hers would be black._

_Olivia had a purple aura. That was a new color and there was no way to interpret it. Olivia was good, but Monica felt like she had things surrounding her that weren't. _

"Just drive," Olivia said. Her brow folded into a million creases, each lined with desert dust. Silence surrounded both of them as the scenery hissed by.

They passed small villages. Many were just circles of half empty tourist courts with paint peeling in the sun. Tucumcari inched closer. The thought of a night's sleep and a square meal would have cheered Elliot up hours ago. Olivia's dark look scared him beyond belief.

"Liv - ," he said, unable to finish the thought. She was staring straight ahead at the monotonous scenery.

"No. You don't have to say anything. I don't think there's anything to say at all at this point. Maybe I thought there was something between us that wasn't," she said, never looking his way.

Elliot felt a headache starting. "Dani wasn't anything. She was there. You weren't. I needed someone and you were gone and I couldn't call or write so I just tried to make her fill the little gaps."

"I'm sure you did," said Olivia, frowning. "All those times I tried to get close to you, but you wouldn't let me in - to help - but my God, she came and then you let her in. It's like I can't seem to get in sync with you, and that's why I told Cragen I wanted us to be apart for awhile."

"There is no Dani anymore. There's no Munch or Fin or Casey in this car. It's just you and me and we need to figure out what's going to happen when we get back to civilization. Because people are going to wonder what happened and we're going to get questioned left and right. Whatever corner of this conspiracy we touched isn't going to go away."

The car fell silent again. The sky ahead of them was bruised black with licks of lightning forking from its jagged edges.

"I didn't chose to go away, Elliot. I didn't want to get hurt and I sure as hell didn't want to know what happened between you and your new partner. It all happened and there's no changing it. It just makes me sad or something else," said Olivia.

"I didn't tell you about Dani and I. How did you know?"

Olivia shifted uncomfortably in the sweat-soaked seat. "I just did," she said. "I guess we've worked together so long we can detect when one or the other gets laid."

_Is it that easy to explain, Olivia? Or are you more like your sister than I guessed?_

"Not much to detect on your end," Elliot smirked, testing the waters. "Or so I hear from Casey."

"Oh, fuck off," said Olivia, but she was smiling. "You look like you have a headache or something."

"I thought that was your usual excuse."

Elliot thought things seemed a little more normal between them, but there was a slightly forced quality to their banter. They chased the storm and the air was heavy when they pulled into Tucumcari. Thunder came in deafening cracks but not a drop of rain had fallen. He left Olivia in the car and got a single room with double beds at the Holiday Inn. She still needed to be watched, he told himself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Are you up to dinner?" he asked, unpacking some of his clothes. Olivia seemed a little feeble and tired by the ride. She sat on the edge of the bed, holding the bags they'd found at the hospital. "Do either of those duffels have any clothes in them?"

Olivia zipped them both open and rummaged through. "No, just some papers and pills. Candy."

Elliot rolled his eyes. "If that's Wintergreen Lifesavers, you've got Doggett's stash," he smiled. Olivia held up a roll and stashed them back in the bag, zipping it shut. "There's gotta be a Wal-Mart or Target around here where we can get you set up."

They found a Target in the growing gloom. Olivia decided to stay in the car. Elliot practically ran through the store, buying pajamas, toiletries and a new set of street clothes from head to foot for the trip home. He also grabbed a bag of Hershey Kisses, one of Olivia's weaknesses.

One of those gourmet grocery stores had just opened up and although steak was on Elliot's mind, he didn't think Olivia would be able to eat much. So he snagged a huge grinder, chips, sodas and a few ladles full of chicken soup for both of them. He was so hungry he opened the chips in the store and grabbed a handful. New York doesn't have huge stores so Elliot wandered around for a minute, taking in the sights.

He was in the cereal aisle when his cell phone rang with an unknown caller.

"Stabler," he barked, expecting it to be Munch or Fin. Instead, there was just music playing. It took him a second to recognize the song. He listened to most of "Year Of the Cat" before the call dropped. Elliot stood for a second, trying to figure out what the call could have meant when he realized the same song was playing on the store's loudspeaker, just about where it had left off on the phone.

His blood ran cold. The cellphone was warm in his hand. Trying not to attract attention, Elliot got checked out and jogged into the parking lot, hand on his gun. It was very quiet, save for a passing train somewhere off in the distance. He could just barely hear its whistle over the sound of his own heartbeat.

Olivia sat in the car, staring impassively at a movie marquee across the street. She was eating some of the Hershey Kisses. The parking lot's flood lights cast an eerie luminescent glow on her pale skin.

"I got you some more soup," Elliot said, jumping into the car. The radio was on. "Year Of the Cat" was playing again. Olivia laid a hand on his arm and he jumped electrically, wincing at her contact.

"What's wrong?" she demanded, but Elliot just got the car in gear and peeled out of the grocery store, kicking up a rooster tail of gravel.

Back at the hotel, Olivia sipped some ginger ale and sipped at the soup. She was sweating again and blearily watching "Jeopardy". She was also scratching at the back of her neck a lot. The room was chilly but the heat her body was generating turned her face stoplight red.

"I think you're running a fever," Elliot said, wiping his hands on his jeans. Olivia didn't answer. "What's say you get first dibs on the shower?" He was forcing himself to sound upbeat.

"Uh huh," was all she could manage. Olivia rose slowly from the bed and wandered toward the bathroom, grabbing her pajamas. He started to follow her in but the door shut and the faucet went on. It was a long nervous wait for the water to stop but it eventually did. Then came distinct toothbrushing sounds.

She re-emerged looking a little better. The dirt that had turned her skin a dull color washed off. Her long hair was wet and tangled. One thing that hadn't washed away were the bags around her eyes, a darker brown than her pale skin. The pajamas were a little big and the ice blue color just made her look more ghostly.

Olivia crossed the floor and settled into her bed with a sigh. She was asleep within minutes. Elliot took this as his cue to take his own shower.

She'd left her clothes on the bathroom floor. Picking them up, Elliot noticed the tags on the shirt and jeans were in Mexican. The shirt had been a little tight across the chest, making him think these were some of Monica's cast-offs. "God, Liv," he breathed, laying them on the counter. They needed to be burned.

The warm water felt good on his parched skin. It was 100 better than the half-hearted, dribbly affair at that fleabag joint he wrecked. Dirt and some of Olivia's dried blood ran off his body.

_I kissed her today, _he thought. _Now what? Is it back to Liv and El, Mr. and Mrs. Detective? Or would it be a trip to Dysfunction-land again with one of us running away at the end?_

The room was dark and quiet and cool. His bare chest tingled in the fresh air. Olivia hadn't moved in the thirty minutes he'd been in the shower. Elliot laid his head on the pillow and squinted at her in the gloom. _She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running like a watercolor in the rain..._

The song played over and over in his head until it was lost in the dark hours of the night.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He didn't remember falling asleep, but he woke up suddenly, hearing his name. Olivia was saying it over and over in a delirious, dreamy voice.

She was searing to the touch. This sent a bolt of fear through Elliot. He sank down beside her in the lumpy bedcovers, feeling a nauseating mixture of love and fear churn his stomach.

"I'm here. I'm right here," he said, cradling her in his arms. One breast spilled from the top of her shirt and he gently covered it back up with a shaking hand.

"I had a dream..but I can't remember it. Scully was there, holding a baby," Olivia mumbled. "She was warning me about something."

Elliot rocked her back and forth a little bit. Whatever was itching on her neck started up again, and she scrabbled at it furiously. "I think you're a little bitten," he said.

He turned the light on and gently brushed her hair aside. There was no bug bite. But right at the hairline, there was a scab from an inexpertly made small incision. It looked deep. "Is it bad?" she asked.

"Nope. Looks like a chigger or something. It'll be better in the morning," Elliot said. He made as if to get up, but she laid a hand on his arm.

"Can you - can you stay with me, just in case? Like you said, it's just the two of us here and no one has to know," Olivia said in an unexpected show of fragility that scared him a little.

Elliot reached over and turned the light out. She settled against him.

Things were seeming to spiral beyond their comprehension. Olivia's ties to Monica were tight as cables, but straining to break under the unknown forces that sent them all running. Elliot wondered if she was in real trouble now and if was truly was the different person Scully warned about. He stared down at the silhouette of her face in the moonlight and muttered the Lord's Prayer. It was all he could think of.


	8. A Girl They Call St Matthew

_**If one day you should behold a miracle, as I have in you, you will learn the truth is not found in science or on some unseen plane, but by looking into your own heart. Dana Scully**_

It was a long flight home. Half the time Elliot was expecting the plane to blow up or a man in a black suit to yank them both out of the aisle and jettison them out the door. It followed him like a shadow across the hot tarmac and through the air conditioned corridors. To her credit, Olivia slept for most of the trip. They were both anxious to get back to New York but for different reasons.

Elliot stared out the window at the passing clouds, listening to the mutterings and bursts of music from IPods. He felt cramped in the narrow seat. Even the three packs of pretzel sticks the stewardess gave him didn't ease the tension. Neither did the beer. He was an infrequent drinker. It was just something to take the edge off.

"Are we home yet?" Olivia yawned, sinking further into the seat.

"I think we're over Tennessee. Go back to sleep. We got awhile," said Elliot, brushing an errant chunk of hair out of her eyes. He went back to watching the clouds and the occasional peek of land beneath them.

Where were Monica and John now? Did they make it home? He didn't envy them outright. Being on the run was terrible. Everything was seen as a blur. But on the other hand, they have each other. They're shacked up in some little cabin, watching and waiting for the seasons to change. John probably was hunting and fishing. He'd often spoke of wanting a vacation home up near Albany.

Monica was the one Elliot worried about. Olivia tended to internalize some things. If the sisters were alike, Monica probably did the same. She'd be something worse than heartbroken at leaving her only blood relative behind. The black helicopters probably hovered over her psyche all the time. When they'd met briefly years ago, Elliot thought she was pretty - kind of willowy - but Monica's eyes couldn't conceal the deep wounds that lurked under her skin. It was like she could see right through him.

The plane hit a little turbulence and lurched forward slightly. Elliot jolted awake from his daydream. He'd been fiddling with the pretzels on the tray table the entire time. Olivia was awake now, too. They both exchanged confused looks.

The pretzels spelled out "LIE".

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Three Days Later**

It wasn't like he was avoiding her. Neither of them had said much about their time in New Mexico, but there was really nothing TO say, and no one was interested in the slightest. Munch just asked how Dana Scully was doing.

"See? Told you she was real," he smirked. Was she? Elliot nodded, thinking about the ghostly woman in the hospital hallway.

He was watching some Civil War documentary on that gray evening when there was a knock at the door. Olivia was there, looking much better save for the tears streaming down her face. She walked past him and sat on the couch, trying to regain some modicum of composure.

"They're watching me," she said.

Elliot sat beside her.

"I see them in every face on the street, down every alley."

She was gripping a crumpled envelope. "I found this in the bottom of that blue bag today. Monica wrote it - I guess she wanted me to know what happened. This proves it."

She handed him the letter and Elliot turned on the light. The handwriting was almost identical to Olivia's. Even the cadence and style matched hers.

_Dear Olivia,_

_It would be strange to say I'm going to miss you. We don't know each other, and maybe we never will. Sometimes I think we might not like each other - because we're both mistakes when it all boils down to it._

_But I find myself thinking of you all the time. It's funny. John understands because he feels the bond with his son, even years after Luke's death. When we found out you were in trouble there was no question that I'd come to your aid. Something tells me when you're sick, or hurt, or someone's hurting you. I don't know how I know it, it's just there and when you're heartbroken, I'm heartbroken too._

Elliot felt himself tearing up.

_Jeffrey Spender is Fox Mulder's half-brother. He saw them take you away. He's not sure what motives the FBI had to drag you out to Oregon. It may have been intended to flush us out of hiding like the scared birds we are. _

_They did something to you that they did to Dana Scully. When I felt the lump on your neck my heart almost stopped. It's kind of a tracking device, a bloody experiment that you have no reason to be part of. I was very careful when I took it out. You were down for the count anyway. Dana gave you another kind of remedy but for awhile none of us were sure how you'd react. The fact that you're reading this means you're safe and okay and everything worked. _

Elliot gave up all pretense of not crying. He wiped a hand across his eyes and kept reading through blurred vision.

_Olivia, they're everywhere. I feel them with every plane passing overhead. Other times I hear the wind blowing across the tops of the pine trees and think they're whispering, trying to find us. I'm afraid to look through keyholes because someone will always be there staring back. Even sometimes in bed after John's asleep I imagine what it will be like when the headlights shine in the window and the men arrive in their black coats. I think in a few years I might treat it with relief. _

_John and I are getting on okay. Is it possible to love someone so badly that they become your air? I can't imagine my life without him. He is me and I am him. I hope you fall in love like this someday. _

_Maybe you already have. _

_Do you pray? I pray for you everyday and hope that we can be sisters at some point. I have so many things to tell you. I just can't tell them to you now. _

_I'm sorry._

_Love, Monica_

Olivia got up. "I need a beer. I'll bet you could use one too," she said, shuffling into the kitchen. Bottles tinkled and tops popped. Elliot wiped the tears from his eyes and accepted a bottle. "They used me to get to her."

His hands shook around the bottle. The first sips calmed him down slightly. She still hovered over him, holding her own beer.

"Liv, I don't know what to say. It's a lot to wrap your mind around and comprehend. Hell, it might take me the rest of my life to understand."

Olivia sat down beside him. "I hope she doesn't do anything irrational. John probably wouldn't let that happen, but the way she wrote that part about the wind and the headlights makes me wonder if Monica's not a little unstable. I just wish I could talk to her and figure it out for myself."

"It's a wonder they all aren't nuts. I thought Scully seemed a little odd but Munch says she's always been that way," Elliot said. "People wonder why we're not crazy, doing the work we do."

"I heard Dani thought that," Olivia said softly.

"She did."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, draining the beers. "You look much better," Elliot offered and it was true. Some of her color had returned and her hair had been cut.

"Casey did my hair. I didn't want to explain to my stylist how I got this gash."

"Cooking accident. A ladder collapsed as you were pruning bushes. A piano fell on your head. You should have talked to me first," he said, noticing now that Olivia's bangs were pretty crooked.

Olivia leaned back. "I make a point never talking to you when you've had beer on an empty stomach."

Elliot flipped on the TV and settled on a movie. "You know, I never have liked watching movies without popcorn," he said.

"Right. I see. You want me to make some. Well, it's a good thing I'm a little buzzed because it might actually do that," Olivia said, wobbling into the kitchen. Four minutes later she emerged with popcorn and two more beers.

As the movie ran on (it was some stupid thriller about a haunted submarine), Elliot began to think about their kiss in the desert and wondered if it would ever happen again. She was too drunk now and it just wouldn't be right but the thought of her warm lips and soft skin lingered. Olivia fell asleep halfway through the movie and leaned on his shoulder, breathing softly on his neck.

She moaned when his phone rang. Dickie had changed the ringer to something silly. It was a little game they played. Elliot had no idea how to change the ringtone, but Dickie had it figured out from the start. And one time in the office, when Cragen was yelling at everyone for something or the other, Elliot's cellphone erupted with the Benny Hill theme song at top volume.

He gently moved Olivia's sleepy body and got up to answer it. "Is that Charlie Brown?" she mumbled, not really expecting an answer. It was just sort of a half-conscious observation.

"Stabler."

A few notes of music played, like a demented game of "Name That Tune". He knew the song immediately.

_On a morning from a Bogart movie..._

Olivia heard his sharp intake of air. He held the phone to his ear as the song kept playing. Cautiously, he walked to the window, expecting to see the bright headlights Monica worried about. But all he could see was the sleet reflecting in the streetlights.

"It's them, isn't it?" Olivia asked. The sound of her voice startled him. She was standing behind him, expressionless. "Monica was right. They're going to be everywhere. Everytime I open a door, someone might be there..."

She turned and ran out the door. "Liv, wait," Elliot said, but she moved quickly. He rushed out behind her, slipping on the light glaze of ice that covered the porch steps. Her figure moved from light to light.

"Come on," he said, watching the breath leave his mouth in white puffs. It was bitter cold.

Elliot caught up to Olivia in four blocks. She was shivering and crying in a storefront.

"Why'd you run, Liv?" he demanded, grabbing her by the elbow. She pulled away with force.

"I don't want them to hurt you, because you'll put up a fight," she said simply.

"You're being paranoid," Elliot said, his voice high and thin in the wind. The sleet was turning to snow, big puffy flakes. Things seemed very quiet around them.

Olivia looked up at him. He wiped a tear and a snowflake off her cheek. "Goddamn you, Stabler. I knew you'd come after me. It always happens like this and one of us pulls away. It's your turn this time."

Elliot looked into her eyes. They were both shivering. Quickly and decisively, he stepped forward and kissed her, resting a hand on her damp cheek. They stayed that way under the golden halo of the streetlight until they were both shaking so hard neither could find the other's lips.

"I want to go home, it's too cold out here," Elliot said, smiling. "I can't feel my hands anymore."

She smiled. They walked back to his house and fell into each other's arms again.

"I'm not running away," Elliot promised. Olivia was glowing from top to toe, tangled in him and pile of bedsheets. She ran a hand through his hair and kissed his chest. Neither of them had much energy for talking the rest of that snowy evening.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**More to come.**


	9. What Came Later

_The empty sidewalks on my block are not the same - _

_You're not to blame._

**One Month Later**

Sometimes Elliot couldn't remember what it was like before they made love. It was passionate, painful and such a release after all these years of denial and guilt. Tasting the blood and flesh beneath him satisfied an almost decade-old longing. His heart felt full again.

But there was something sadder about Olivia. She snuck around corners. Sometimes she'd sit on the roof of the precinct and stare at the stars for hours as everyone hunted frantically for her.

She had become Monica. Her personality had become deeper and darker. Or maybe it always was; now it was just closer to the surface.

And she'd killed someone. You can't hide what you've done from the eyes of God. They both knew all killing was wrong. Even to kill someone in self-defense can weigh on the psyche. There are only so many stars above to wish on. And up there, above the church bells and the chimney-tops, Olivia just watched and waited under the orange dusk for some sort of end.

"Our Lord works in mysterious ways," she said.

Elliot would look out with her, but there was nothing to see on the horizon.

XXXXXX

She called him one day from the docks. Olivia had gone MIA for a few days, taking some comp time and just trying to collect her thoughts. He walked the slick boards, looking through the cracks at the whitecaps roiling against the stilts. Olivia was standing on the end of a pier, her auburn hair glistening in the wind. There the water was dark and cold.

"What is it?" he asked, lightly touching her arm.

"I have something I want you to see," she said quietly. There was still a scar on her forehead. It stood out in the sun as Olivia turned and handed Elliot a piece of blue paper.

_Dear Monica,_

_I've been spending a lot of time thinking about who we are and why things turned out the way they did. _

_I can't apologize for Mom. She held me under her thumb for such a long time. It's sad that you never knew her because sometimes she really was great and took care of me. But mainly we were afraid of each other. I hated the violence and she didn't like staring down a mistake. For a long time I thought she was raped and that my father was a criminal. After finding out about you, I wonder if it just wasn't a cop out so she wouldn't have to explain being young and dumb. Silly of me to say that, doing what I do. _

_Your father was a Native American professor. I saw his picture; he was very handsome. I doubt he knew of my mother's pregnancy. You favor him and I'm sure that's where your mystical side comes from. I get feelings about things, too, but that's intutiton at play, I think. He died in a plane crash when you were very young._

_Did you love your adopted family? What little my aunts knew was that they had money. I'm very proud you went to Brown. The X Files surrounded you with very smart people. Some are and some aren't at my precinct. _

_Are you and John married? My damn intuition-or whatever- tells me you were a little wary of Elliot. Sometimes it's like we can't stand each other and others I feel like I've known him for an eternity. He's the only person who can absolutely infuriate me and then calm me right down. _

"I wanted to write her a note," Olivia said. "I wanted to say everything my mother couldn't and promise I'd take care of her if anything happened to John."

Elliot was surprised by the flatness of Olivia's tone. It seemed a little hopeless.

"I don't know you anymore," he said sadly, reaching out to smooth a stray strand of hair from her forehead.

"Did you ever?"

"No," Elliot said, staring out at the black water.

She took the sheet of paper and tossed it into the waves. They both watched it sink. "Maybe we'll be together in heaven," Olivia said, leaving him momentarily confused.

"What do you mean?" Elliot said, wondering if she meant Monica or him. Olivia didn't answer.

They both watched the paper float away, riding the crest of the waves.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Do you remember when we first met?" Olivia asked as they walked away.

"Sure."

"I felt like I'd always known you. It wasn't like we were meeting for the first time, it was like getting re-acquainted."

Elliot stopped and cocked his head to the side. Olivia kept walking and talking.

"Maybe there is some truth to past lives.I can see the desert and the road and taste the dust in my mouth right now. It's like our present lives folded over and just touched the past," she babbled. "I sound full of shit, right?"

Elliot caught up to her. He just shrugged his shoulders, at a loss for what to say. They walked down the dock hand in hand, feeling the wind buffett their prone backs.

It would have heartened Olivia to know that a little over a year later, Anthony Oliver Doggett was born. Monica thought of Olivia every day, wishing the two of them could have puzzled the pregnancy out together. Olivia didn't know about her nephew until Munch got an 8x10 envelope in the mail. Inside was a picture of Monica, John and Anthony posed in front of a teepee. Monica was holding a sheet of paper - and with the help of a magnifying glass, Olivia was able to read the writing on it.

_I love you, Sis _is all it said.

**The End**


End file.
